The Youngest Son
by ko-drabbles
Summary: A boy can like anything a girl can, a boy can take any size and shape, and Kyoya is happy in himself. Mostly. He's come a long way, after all. (Trans boy Kyoya Ootori)


**A/N: Female pronouns are only used in the first chapter bc of Kyoya's age and not realising his gender identity yet. I promise, this will change from here on out; it's just an introductory scene.**

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The new school year was about to start, and Kyo should be studying. She should be with Tachibana, picking out notebooks and pens that sparkle in the right light, finding a new backpack. After all, they were rich, and so she could have anything her little heart desired. She could have fountain pens and moleskin notebooks, but she went for those silly pens with teddy bears on the end because they seemed to be popular. She went for notebooks decorated with glitter and an abundance of pink, because that's what she should like. She was a prim and proper little girl after all, and they liked that sort of thing.

Her mother told her so whenever she looked unsure about some little trinket. Little girls love pink and ponies and princesses and, while she did, it all felt so cloying. Like it was forced on her. But it wasn't! Her mother liking it didn't influence her opinions. After all, her mother liked that they both had long hair, down to the small of their back, and that was changing right that moment.

Instead of preparing for school, she was standing in the bathroom, a pair of sewing scissors in her hand. It was a pain that they were so small, but she was making steady progress, the keen sound of the snipping echoing around the room. In fact, she was nearly done. Her hair lay thickly on the floor, no longer on her head, and she was just trying to cut her fringe like that guy in the magazine on her bed. He had her sort of face shape – round, chubby cheeked – and it looked good on him.

She just wanted all that hair gone. Even when Tachibana helped her plait it or tie it up, it almost weighed her down. She hated how it looked, how heavy it was, how hot her scalp got in the summer. She shuddered whenever it brushed against her skin, reminding her that it was still there.

So, the obvious solution was to cut it all off. She couldn't take it any longer, and if she had to wait, she would've just ripped it all from her scalp. This was an easy out, and she didn't have to bother anyone about taking her to the hairdressers. She just took the sewing kit her grandmother had given her for her birthday and just started cutting. It felt almost instantly lighter when she cropped it to her shoulder, but it only spurred her on further.

It was messy, uneven, but it was… good. She liked the length at least, even if the actual cut was sloppy, and she grinned crookedly at her reflection. Her braces glinted back at her, her large eyes were sparkling, and she just looked _happy_. Here was good, alone in the bathroom in baggy jeans and her t-rex shirt, both a literal and metaphorical weight lifted. It was like she was more connected to the person staring back at her, and nothing was holding her down to the ground.

Of course, everyone was going to notice. After all, a drastic change wasn't easy to ignore, but hopefully it'd be alright. After all, her father and brothers probably couldn't care less about something so arbitrary as her hair, but her mother and sister… Her bodyguards could be an issue, or they might not be; she honestly didn't know.

She did her best to clean the bathroom, trying to pick up the strands of hair and dumping them in the bin, glancing at her reflection once she was done. Her cheeks hurt from how much she was smiling, and she couldn't remember the last time she felt so happy and relieved. Still, she had to come out of the bathroom eventually, and she didn't have any way to predict how anyone would react.

"Kyo? Where are you?" A faint call came from outside. Tachibana. She supposed it was now or never, the feeling of urgency pushing her forward and out into her room. The man stopped dead in his tracks, just staring at her without saying another word. She tightened her grip around scissors in her hand, the metal almost feeling as if it was burning as it pressed into her skin, only further showing what she'd done.

"I was in the bathroom," She simply stated, starting to walk around the stunned man when he finally snapped out of his stupor. An overreaction in her opinion; it was just hair.

"Kyo… Is something the matter?" He asked, throwing her off her stride. Of all questions for him to ask, she hadn't expected that one. After all, it's not as if she was sobbing her heart out as she chopped at her hair, she just couldn't take the feeling of it anymore. It felt like it was stuffed down her throat, more and more with every breath, her lungs unable to take in a single molecule of air. She needed it off, but she was okay, and it's not something conventional to ask if someone cuts their hair.

She tilted her head to the side, raising her eyebrow, and answered in her steadiest, most self-assured voice, "Of course I'm alright, why wouldn't I be? I just fancied a change, and my hair kept getting in my face."

It got in the way of everything, actually, but this was what she came up with. While she wasn't lying, it felt almost like a half-truth, some way to get out of admitting something in full. Which was ludicrous! She had nothing to hide, she just needed to cut all that damn hair off her head, nothing more to it.

Still, Tachibana sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in that exasperated manner he usually did when something annoyed him. Kyo felt bad for that, having a liking for the man, but still couldn't regret her actions in any way. "Why didn't you ask to be taken to the hairdressers?" He questioned, giving her the _you-should-know-better-than-that_ look which was usually reserved for Hotta.

"I didn't want to bother anyone, and I found it rather simple," She shrugged, to which Tachibana pointed out how ragged and uneven it all looked, saying that he'd fix it. However, he forbade her from cutting her own hair again, as she clearly didn't have a knack for it.

Still, it was a step. Although, at the time, she had no idea why she smiled the way she did when Kuze said she looked like a boy; but she was coming closer to a realisation. A reason why she was… the way she was.

She wasn't a girl at all.


End file.
